Page 12 of Ramsay

What the fuck just happened?

I’m still standing like an idiot when he rounds the corner and disappears. With a heartfelt fucking sigh, I return to our table, meeting the icy stare of Sabrina as I do and in no mood for her, I change my direction, heading toward the bathroom instead.

But I’m derailed when who do I fucking see standing across the room dressed in an outfit better suited for a rave hanging off Chris Shore but Gabby.

Gabby from the old life. What the fuck is she doing here? The last time I saw her, she was fucking Crush, or should I say, he was fucking her? Gabby was so out of it; she could barely keep her eyes open.

Does he know she’s here? At Sterling High? Shit. Fuck. Damn. I can’t be seen. I’m fucked if…

I move to duck into the bathroom but my heart jumps into my throat when she raises her head and meets my wide-eyed stare. Fuck.

She raises a brow, her lip curling as she drops her gaze over my simple black dress. Yeah, sometimes I can’t believe this is who I am either.

When her avid eyes return to mine, I pull up my best bitchy smile. A warning to back off and one I used effortlessly before.

But now my past is colliding with my present and I’m reeling under the dissonance.

Now what?

After locking myself in a stall, I press my head against the cool metal and take a deep breath. Maybe she doesn’t have a clue. Maybe no one cares but I know, with a swirling, aching sensation in the pit of my stomach, that I’m fucked.

If Gabby tells anyone, and I meananyonethat she saw me here, not even Satan himself can save me from the evil about to be unleashed. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

Any thoughts about Ramsay and the delicious kiss are gone in the wake of this newest revelation and after obsessing about the turn of events for fucking ever, I finally emerge.

Thankfully Gabby is gone. Patrick never returns to the dance. For the remainder of the evening, my peers give me chilly stares, which I ignore, knowing the punishment will only worsen if I don’t take it like a good little lemming.

∞∞∞

Ramsay

With a glance at my watch, I sigh. This is by design, of course. I am annoyed by the time wasted on this miscreant, but it also makes his right eyelid twitch.

He’s crossed a line and he needs to understand there are always consequences. This is his last chance though; I don’t suffer fools lightly.

Inexplicably, my thoughts return to Willow pressed so sweetly against my dick. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t envisioned it before, but I know only too well what going down that road entails.

She’s a risk I can’t afford to take but fuck, she would be a sweet one.

“Ram?” Oliver says and I tilt my head in his direction.

He raises a brow which I ignore, pulling myself back to the present. After adjusting my cuffs, I raise my eyes to Patrick and curl my lips into a smirk. He flinches and drops his gaze as he should.

This is my world and he’s just a fucking toad I allow in it.

“You’re testing my patience, Hughes. You want to see your way through to a fat wife and three kids? You’ll back the fuck off.”

Diem punches him in the stomach for good measure before we leave him lying against the wall.

“Should’ve taken care of it,” Diem mutters but I ignore him too, waving my hand.

With a grunt, Diem veers toward the gym. Oliver stalks past me and this time my sigh is fucking heartfelt. I made a promise a long time ago, sorry if it rankles now.

You’re the ones who made me do it.

Chapter Three

Willow

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